Cleveland is labeled "The Whitest Man in America" after he wins a dance competition for the chance to attend a pop sensation's concert. Unable to shake off his new reputation, Cleveland is determined to understand his roots and where he came from. Everything starts to make sense when he is reunited with his former nanny Barbara, a high class woman with a taste for refined culture. But even though Cleveland's nanny influenced many of his interests growing up, Cleveland finally learns that happiness comes from being comfortable in your own skin.

David Hinckley

Rob Owen

Like "Family Guy," The Cleveland Show jumps from the main plot to tangential asides often built around pop culture. But the show's tone is different because Cleveland is such a well-meaning, likable character.

Verne Gay

I laughed. Not often, or perhaps not often enough, but there was also enough McFarlane-esque gross-out sophomoric tomfoolery to keep even me reasonably entertained for a half-hour. Plus, good ol' likable Cleveland works well as a leading man.

Barry Garron

Cleveland has a few delightfully outrageous moments, along with several that are gratuitously gross ("hot fur," anyone?), but its most disconcerting element is its significant resemblance to "Family Guy."

Ginia Bellafante

Like everything else in the MacFarlane arsenal, The Cleveland Show relies heavily on pop-cultural references (and many of them are pretty funny), but the rhythm and pacing can feel like a slow-dripping faucet.

Joanna Weiss

Alan Sepinwall

Cleveland isn’t an inherently interesting, or, worse, funny, character. His presence allows the writers (many of them white like Henry and Appel) to tell meta jokes about white people in Hollywood producing entertainment for a black audience, and occasionally some of the racial humor lands.

Ellen Gray

My guess is Fox figures fans of MacFarlane's shows know what they're getting into and may not care if racial parodies are served up by white guys or black ones. Those of us who maybe aren't so comfortable were never welcome in the first place.

Brian Lowry

For those who buy into the MacFarlane formula this is all riotous fun. For the rest of us, it's a bit like Dane Cook's stand-up act--a reminder that what tickles current teens and twentysomethings is often markedly different from the satirical material that amused their parents.

Robert Bianco

The characters here creak, including the talking bear who mirrors the alien in American Dad and the dog in Family Guy, and the watered-down setup now feels like a copy of a copy of a copy. What's worse, in three episodes, there's hardly a laugh to be found. Bad taste, we'll accept. Boring we won't.